An errand of taking

Lyres in his mouth shatter
the four-walled stomach he makes
from the raw dough of her body.
She disappears, this waterfront
whore who combs her aunt’s hair
soon as dawn comes to fast the day
and beg the winds blow wheels.
He knows her price and figures
her family is flat as what walks on
multitudes of salt and air hot
as the soft liquor he pours in.
Who are they but deer nosing tails
crusted in the ignorant magnolia
pollinating the strangers they cross
and every coin in every pocket
and child’s squealing mouth?


~ by Jeremy on January 24, 2011.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: